


Pitch black

by Drafter



Series: HxH Whump Stories [1]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, Dark Kurapika, Gen, Revenge, Torture, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020, forced to their knees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:41:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26801575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drafter/pseuds/Drafter
Summary: It took years, but Kurapika finally got the leader of the Spiders exactly where he wanted.
Series: HxH Whump Stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1966612
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Pitch black

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3 of Whumptober!
> 
> Prompt: Forced to their knees (although this also checks a lot of other boxes, lol)

His eyes were red for quite a while now, but he didn’t care. The Emperor’s Time would be active for as long as it takes. Kurapika already lost count of how many hours he had lost from his remaining lifespan, which, honestly, didn’t really matter anymore. He wouldn’t mind dying the next day. Or even the next hour, for all he cared. Kurapika’s sole desire now was to finish what he started. Everything else was irrelevant.

He caught Chrollo when he was the last one standing. All the other Spiders were gone, Hisoka included. They had managed to kill themselves off when Hisoka went on a mad killing spree that only ceased when Chrollo chopped his head off. Now Kurapika had him, his cardinal eyes glaring with rage and bloodlust.

He didn’t put up a fight. The Troupe’s leader was tired, hopeless, hurt — both physically and mentally, from watching his peers die one by one in the hands of that motherfucking jester. It was almost like he was waiting to meet his fate, and when Kurapika cornered him in the Black Whale ship, he did nothing else but smile.

Kurapika hated that, of course. He was expecting to provoke at least some fear, to inflict pain, but even at the end, Chrollo managed to take that satisfaction away from him. He cursed Hisoka beneath his breath for tiring him out. This was his fight, not Hisoka’s.

But he would still try to get the most of it. The pleasure of subduing the Phantom Troupe’s danchou was still his; not even Hisoka had done it. The killer of the Kurta clan would die in the hands of another Kurta, and no one, no one, would take that away from him.

So to hell with Emperor’s Time life sentencing rules. There was nothing else to live for anyway.

Chrollo’s body was now wrapped by the Chain Jail, forced into a state of Zetsu. Powerless. He didn’t even try to break free; they both knew it would be a waste of energy when not even Uvogin was able back then. He was just standing there. Calm. Glancing ice-cold eyes to Kurapika’s flaming ones.

A jerk of the chain, and Chrollo got to his knees. Kurapika mouth pulled back in a snarl, his left fist clenched. All he wanted was to get a reaction from Chrollo.

But he got none. That only made him even more enraged.

“You will pay,” he announced right before punching Chrollo on the face.

His knuckle felt heavy over Chrollo’s jaw. Felt good. A second jab, and blood was spilled. A cracking noise. By the end of the fifth or sixth blow, Kurapika’s hand was covered in red, thick blood. Large drops tinted the floor, both from his hand and the Spider’s lips.

Chrollo didn’t say anything to stop him as he took each stroke. And at the end, beneath the broken nose and the black eye, he was smiling again. Not a smirk, not a grin, but a smile, a casual smile, almost a mockery dancing around his crimson lips.

“Stop smiling!” Kurapika shouted.

The anger grew inside him as he tightened the chains. His heart was pounding, his mind racing. Every inch of his body was tingling, all sensations at once. The adrenaline shot through his veins.

“Long time no see, Chain Guy,” Chrollo said. “You must be happy. Finally got what you wanted.”

“Shut up!”

One more punch, the stomach this time. Chrollo lost his breath and choked hard, bending his entire body and reaching for air. A loud moan, followed by a muted one. Kurapika watched in silence. He had disgust on his eyes, disdain on his lips.

That still wasn’t enough.

The chains then crawled up to Chrollo’s neck, creeping like a snake, making sure they applied just the right amount of pressure: not tight enough to block his breathing, but enough to cause discomfort.

“Will you kill me the way you killed Uvogin?”

“You removed my chain,” Kurapika said, referring to the one he had placed in his heart long ago. “What was it? Exorcism?”

“I see you know your stuff. Kudos for being such a dedicated Nen user. You could have been a great partner if our paths had crossed in different circumstances.”

“Shut up!” Kurapika yelled again, the chains now up to Chrollo’s chin. “You killed my family. My friends. Old men, children, women. Do you think I would ever partner with a scumbag like you?”

“We share the same feelings. I was devastated when I lost my family.”

A slight movement from Kurapika and the links tightened their grip around Chrollo’s neck and jaw. He left out a low moan, but somehow still managing to keep a composed demeanour, his eyes gentle yet defiant.

“We are nothing alike,” Kurapika said, marking the distaste with his words.

“I beg to differ…”

Kurapika stepped closer to Chrollo. He was so tall that even at his knees, they were almost head to head. At his will, the chains went up to Chrollo’s face, covering his cheeks, the nose, the forehead. Only the eyes were left out.

“You deserve a far worse death than a puncture in your heart,” he said in a low voice. “You deserve to suffer just like my family did.”

With a slight brush of air, the chain's hook end flew to Kurapika’s palm at his command. Nothing but anxiety filled his mind, heavy as a dark cloud on a rainy day.

Breathing steadily, but with his heart pounding, Kurapika brought the hook to Chrollo’s temples. The pointy end pierced through his skin, letting a light stream of blood surface from the cut. He made sure the hook was well clasped in his temples before dragging across his front, carving a deep, thin line on his face and tearing his eyes, letting blood and other fluids wash the chains that covered Chrollo’s face.

For the first time, Kurapika heard a scream. A muffled cry, made of pure agony and pain, long and loud and terribly satisfying, coming from the Spider’s buried mouth as he squirmed under the Chain Jail.

It was funny. When Kurapika killed Uvogin, he felt sick to his stomach. A feeling so disgusting he could puke. Now he had none of that. Now he felt more alive than ever.

He smiled. His revenge was just getting started.


End file.
